Strategy
by redseeker
Summary: TF:Animated. Starscream receives an unexpected offer for help from a certain former-Autobot. Blackarachnia x Starscream.
1. Chapter 1

"Well, aren't you a sorry excuse."

Starscream came to suddenly - groggy, waterlogged, and with null-rays charged and at the ready.

"Prepare to taste defe- ... Gah, it's happened again." Then, realising that someone was addressing him, he shifted his attention to the lithe figure standing over him, instinctively aiming his null-rays at her instead. "It's _you_," he said, not even bothering to conceal the disgust in his voice. Blackarachnia stood ankle deep in the shallow water at the river's edge, weight on one small foot, elegant, clawed hands resting on her jutting hips. She was looking down at him with a level of distaste that rivalled his own. "Speak for yourself."

Like the rest of his "comrades", he viewed Blackarachnia with a mixture of revulsion and distrust, stemming, of course, from her peculiar hybrid status. She was an aberration, and her organic side was viewed, in general, as a taint on the purity of Cybertronian mechanical construction. However, the knowledge of her revolting organic components did little to disguise the fact that she was still an attractive femme, if you were into that sort of thing. And she knew it too. As if it weren't bad enough that she made him (and, he could guarantee, every other functional mech she came into contact with since her joining the Decepticon ranks(1)) disgusted with himself for appreciating her, ah, _aesthetic traits_, she had to go and rub it in his face by acting the diva, all curved plating, pert aft, and clacking high heels that meant she didn't just walk, she _minced_, or stalked. Starscream looked down on such clear and blatant cries for attention, and the irony of such an attitude was, of course, entirely lost on him.

Shaking his head to clear his central processor of silty river water, he rose to his feet. Shooting the femme a sneer, he said, "And what are you doing here? Has Megatron become so bored with me that he's sent you to do his dirty work for him?"

"Don't make me laugh," Blackarachnia replied with a snort of humourless laughter. She folded her arms and shifted her weight to her other foot. Tilting her head, she said, "I'm going to take a wild guess and assume the big guy finally realised what a useless glitch you are and tossed you out with the rest of the garbage. Am I close to the mark?"

Clenching his teeth and his fist, Starscream hissed, "You insubordinate wretch! I should destroy you where you stand for that!"

Nonplussed, Blackarachnia's only reaction was a subtle twitch of one optic ridge and the corner of her mouth. "Go right ahead, fly-boy." She spread her arms. "You've got a clean shot. Surely even _you _can hit me from there."

Starscream growled, thought about it for a klik, then powered down his weapons. "It would just be a waste of ammo."

"Right," Blackarachnia said, voice just dripping with disdain. She folded her arms again and turned away from him slightly, looking up toward the cave opening from which Starscream had been so ungraciously flung a few cycles earlier. "So how long has this been going on?"

"What?"

"This! Your string of laughable failures, and subsequent miraculous recoveries."

"Oh. Maybe... Only a few orns. But I'm only getting warmed up! I _will _kill Megatron, and then the leadership of the Decepticons will be mine!"

"Right. And what makes you think they'll follow you?"

"Er... That's not the point. The point is, I must take reve-"

"I'm sure that's all fascinating and everything," Blackarachnia interrupted. "But what I'm really interested in is this." To illustrate her point, she leant closer, lifted one clawed hand and gently tapped the end of one digit against the glowing gem lodged in the front of Starscream's helm. Uncomfortable at her sudden proximity, Starscream jerked back.

"Keep your servos to yourself," he said, swatting her hand away.

Undeterred, Blackarachnia went on, "That's a fragment of the original Allspark." She took a step nearer, and Starscream took a step back. Holding out her hand, palm upwards, she said, "Give it to me."

"What? No! This thing is the only reason I'm not offline yet."

"So? It's not like the world would really miss a useless piece of scrap like you."

"What? How dare you-"

Blackarachnia offered a slow, condescending smile, and traced the tips of her claws over his cheek. "Oh, cool it, would you? You're not even my superior anymore."

"That's debatable," he muttered, but she heard it, and all four of her eyes narrowed into luminous red slits.

"Careful, fly-boy." She leaned a little closer, hissing, and Starscream stilled, forced by his own bravado to remain motionless rather than, as he would have preferred, put as much distance between them as possible. "I bite."

It took a nano-klik to school his features into a sneer that successfully (he thought) masked his flustered state. "You don't scare me, insect. Now get out of my way." He pushed her away and turned his back on her, beginning to walk back towards the cave opening that led to the Decepticons' lair.

"Going to get your aft handed to you again?"

Grudgingly, Starscream stopped, ground his teeth in frustration, and looked over his shoulder. "I don't see how it's any of your business."

"You know, you might want to rethink that whole immortality thing. I really don't think you're making the most of it. Why not give that little toy to someone who could make better use of it?"

"Like you, you mean?"

She shrugged, flashing a fanged smile. "It's a suggestion."

"Not a chance."

She gave a theatrical sigh, making a show of nonchalantly inspecting the tips of her claws. "In that case, maybe you'll accept a little help?"

Starscream blinked in surprise. Turning to face her fully, he narrowed his optics and asked, "And why, pray tell, would you want to help a 'useless piece of scrap ' like me?"

"Let's just say," Blackarachnia said, sauntering closer. "You have something I want. That Allspark fragment might be what I need to restore my body to the way it once was. I have no love for Megatron - but I'm not about to offer up my head on a platter for him, either."

"What do you mean?"

"I _mean _that while you might wake up from deactivation with nothing but a headache, I won't have the same luxury. So if you really want my help taking down Megatron, you're going to have to rethink your strategy."

Starscream folded his arms. "And who says I want your help, anyway?"

"Oh, I'm sorry." Idly, she reached over and picked a glob of wet leaves and mud from his chest armour. "I see you were doing so well by yourself."

Starscream bit back a growl. "Fine! Tag along if you want." He turned away in a huff, and began to stalk his way along the river bank, heading in the general direction of the city.

"Won't this be fun?" Blackarachnia muttered, mouth curving into a wry smirk. She sighed, and then jogged to catch up with him, heels clicking on the hard rock beneath her feet.

* * *

(1) Save perhaps Lugnut, but he was barely what you'd call functional.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Er, I actually wrote this ages ago. I posted it to Livejournal, but only just remembered to post it here...

* * *

"So, what exactly _is_ this genius strategy of yours?"

Blackarachnia crossed her legs, reclining back on the makeshift chair she had constructed out of sturdy metal crates. They had holed up for the time being in an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of Detroit, similar to the Autobots' base, though on the other side of the city. Starscream had his arms folded and was pacing back and forth in a most irritating manner.

"Would it hurt you to stay still for one nano-klik?" She was already beginning to question whether this hadn't been a terrible idea; as much as she wanted to exploit _any _chance to rid herself of her organic half, she wasn't sure how much longer she would be able to endure the seeker's company before she fried a circuit. Or fried _his_ circuits. When he ignored her, she extended one slim foot, causing him to trip on her ankle and stumble.

Spluttering in rage, he rounded on her. "You did that on purpose!"

"Did I?" Blackarachnia replied, feigning ignorance. She heard the unmistakeable hum of his null-rays powering up, and gave a sardonic smile. "Shooting me isn't going to get you anywhere. Sit down."

He seemed to fume for a moment, speakers hissing static, before he eventually let his null-rays cool and, shooting her the most venomous glare she had ever seen (and she'd seen quite a few; given a fair few herself, too), he sat down on another pile of crates with a huff, folding his arms once more.

Really, he was no better than a sparkling.

"Well?"

"Megatron isn't the only one who's realised the Allspark has split," Blackarachnia said, deciding that the best way to proceed was just to jump right into it. Then maybe he'd stop complaining. "The Autobots are going to be looking for fragments as well."

"So?"

"So, if we keep track of their movements, we can tail them to whatever fragment they're after, and then simply swipe it from right under those fools' olfactory sensors."

He looked sceptical.

"But why follow the Autobots around instead of the Decepticons?"

"Because," she began slowly, as though she really were talking to a sparkling. "Optimus _Prime_," she shuddered a little saying the title, "won't be quite as eager to kill us as our beloved former leader."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because he doesn't have the nuts and bolts for it. He may talk up a big show, but there's nothing to back it up. Not unlike someone else I know..."

If Starscream even picked up on her poorly veiled insult, he didn't acknowledge it. Instead, he narrowed his optics and said, "And how would you come to know so much about the Autobots' pathetic leader?"

Blackarachnia set her jaw, folding her arms and looking away. In all her time with the Decepticons, she had managed to avoid revealing too much of her past. None of her newest "comrades" knew of her former identity as Elita-1, and she had always intended to keep it that way. Generally, no one had asked - no one had really wanted to spend enough time with the filthy half-breed to get around to asking questions about her background - and those who _had_ asked had been swiftly instructed to take their nosy attitude and shove it straight up their tailpipes. Now, however, she was in the uncomfortable situation of having to explain herself. She had already turned her back on Megatron, and Starscream was a traitor himself; these combined factors meant that he would be quick to suspect her of his own cowardly behaviour.

"I know more than you think," she said. "Probably more than the snivelling sycophants he calls team-mates know." She grit her teeth, still not looking back at her companion. She knew she couldn't leave it at that, but she did not want to continue.

"...Go on," Starscream said. Looking 'round finally, she saw that he was leaning forward, a suspicious look on his face. But something else... he looked intrigued.

"What does it matter, anyway? It doesn't mean I'm on his side. I have no loyalty to the Autobots, or to the Decepticons. The only one I care about now is myself."

"Well, that," Starscream said, "is something we have in common. However." He fixed her with a penetrating stare and gave one of his irritating little sneers. "I need to know you won't betray me. If you have some kind of _history_ with this sorry excuse for a mech, how do I know you won't let foolish sentimentality get in the way of your new mission?"

"A history?" she snorted. Then she paused; wasn't that exactly what she did have? "Don't be stupid."

He raised one optic ridge. "I'm waiting."

She realised that he wasn't going to stop digging until he got what he wanted. Irritated, she rose to her feet and stood in front of him, hands on her hips, a sour expression on her face. It felt good to be looking down at him; if she was going to talk about her past, then she needed the extra confidence.

"All right," she said, still scowling. To her surprise and pleasure, he actually looked a little unnerved. "If it'll get you to shut up." This earned her another glare, but she ignored it and ploughed on. "I used to be one of them. Yeah, me, an Autobot." She laughed coldly. "Hard to believe looking at me now, huh?" He remained silent, and she began to pace. "Back then my designation was Elita-1. I was a student at the Autobot Academy." She glanced over to gauge his reaction. He looked suitably surprised.

"_You_, at the Autobot Academy?" The scorn and disbelief with which he said it still cut deep, even after so long.

"Believe it," she said. "Optimus - he wasn't a Prime back then - was a... friend of mine. I soon learned how much an Autobot's friendship is worth when he left me for dead, though." She felt her anger rising, and she clenched her fist as she went on, "I was stranded on an alien planet, surrounded by hostile organics, while my so-called _friends_ fled. That was the day I turned into..._this_..." She gestured to herself, feeling all her old shame at her organic half push to the surface again. Shuttering her optics, she sighed then grit her teeth.

"Well boo-hoo." Her optics snapped online and she looked at him in stunned indignation. He looked... bored? "What a terrible sob-story," he drawled. She saw his optics flick over her body, no doubt taking in her repulsive organic form. "Really, my spark bleeds."

"Oh, mute it, would you," she hissed. She hadn't expected - or wanted - his sympathy, but his flippancy still grated. She had to remind herself that she was dealing with the sparkless Decepticon second-in-command, grovelling sycophant and now remorseless traitor. And to think, back when she had first joined the Decepticons, he had actually _intimidated _her. "I wouldn't expect scrap like you to understand."

She saw his jaw tense, and he looked like he was about to snap a come-back, but he didn't. Instead, he said, "So how do you know so much about the Autobots' movements?"

A little surprised - and relieved - at the change of topic, Blackarachnia swiftly pulled herself together and answered imperiously, "Where d'you think I've been all this time? The Autobots' little human pet has an Allspark artefact too - a key."

"The thing that brought Megatron back to life," Starscream interrupted, voice low.

Blackarachnia sighed. "Megatron this, Megatron that. Honestly, do you _ever_ think about anything else?" He looked seriously affronted at this, but she continued before he could start. "I've been keeping an eye on the Autobot fools, in the hopes of getting my hands on that key. We're going to have to be careful."

"...Why?"

"Because they've called in reinforcements. The 'Elite Guard'. They'll be on high alert."

Starscream leaned back, looking away for a few kliks in thought. "All right," he said, snickering. "I have a plan."

Blackarachnia fought the urge to sigh. _Here we go_...


	3. Chapter 3

"Okay, I'm going to need a piece of that."

Blackarachnia reached forward, leaning into Starscream's space and raising her claws to the front of his helm. He abruptly backed up with a squawked, "What?", and attempted to swat her away.

"Come _on_, Starscream. Don't be such a scaredy-bot. If we're going to carry out this ridiculous plan of yours, we need a fragment of the Allspark to work with."

"But, I need it!" Starscream was now several paces away from her, and had one null-ray powered up and pointing at her spark. His other hand was clutching the side of his helm.

Blackarachnia put her hands on her hips and cycled a long intake, letting out the stale air slowly. "I'm not going to take it _all_, you fool. A piece of it would be enough to act as bait _and _to power the charge. I'm not about to put you offline... Not unless you keep annoying me, anyway."

Starscream still looked doubtful, but he did at least power down his weapon and allow her to approach.

"Okay, lean down. And keep still... You wouldn't want me yanking the whole thing out by accident, now, would you?"te

Starscream's mouth twisted into an awkward grimace, and he allowed the smaller Decepticon to reach up and ease her slender claw tips into the crack in his helm. The fragment glowed as the gap widened, its dazzling light making Blackarachnia wince. Ever since her change she hadn't been on great terms with bright lights, even to the point where she preferred not to roam abroad in daylight, if she could avoid it. She'd become nocturnal, a rhythm which was, she knew, much more organic than mechanical.

She narrowed and focused her optical sensors, mindful of how dicey the situation was for Starscream; she was surprised he was allowing her to do this, especially given his apparently naturally distrustful - and untrustworthy - demeanour. Maybe he was just too arrogant to consider her much of a threat. Or perhaps, she wondered reluctantly, he knew that it just wouldn't really be in her best interests to kill him.

She hoped it wasn't the former. She hated to be underestimated, and - she thought smugly as she got a good hold on the crystal and, using her sharp claw-tips like pincers, broke a piece off - was that they had both done away with the old chain of command when they had deserted. He was no longer the powerful Decepticon Air Commander, right-hand bot to Megatron himself, and she was no longer a soldier to be ordered. Now they were simply two factionless bots out for themselves, who just happened to find it convenient to team up for a while.

No, the phrase "team up" suggested that together they really formed some sort of _team_ - a whole comprised of component parts working in harmony. It suggested willing co-operation, morale, camaraderie. Starscream and she had never even been comrades - only soldiers on the same side - they were certainly not team-mates now.

The broken fragment lifted out quite easily once she'd got a solid enough grip on it, though she did manage to accidentally scrape the inside of the crack a little with one claw. Starscream winced and cursed when she did that, but she hissed and otherwise ignored him.

"There," she said, now holding the small Allspark piece in her cupped hands. "That wasn't so bad, was it?"

Starscream glowered at her, and then snatched the stone from her hands. "_I'll _take care of this."

"All right, all right. Don't get your wires in a bunch." She turned and sauntered back over to where a little bundle of components and cables lay on top of one of the large crates that loomed around the derelict plant they'd chosen as their temporary base of operations. It was a crudely constructed bomb, designed to utilise the Allspark fragment's immense energy to fuel an explosion of possibly devastating proportions. Neither of them were entirely certain how well it would work - whether it would be a reasonably impressive detonation that cleared a sizeable chunk of Detroit, or, say, an almighty calamity that would raze half the hemisphere. Blackarachnia sort of hoped for the former, what with her current lack of off-planet transportation. She hopped onto the crate beside the incomplete device and perched on the crate's edge, crossing her legs and leaning back on her hands.

"I can't _wait_ to see that old fool have all his grand schemes blow up in his faceplate. I'll blast him all the way to the Pit." Starscream was grinning the sharp, manic grin he adopted whenever he began plotting Megatron's death. She found his dedication impressive, if nothing else. His plan was actually not all that bad, and might, _might_ (though she was reluctant to think it) just work. Of course, it had needed modifying a bit. It had needed "a fembot's touch", she had said.

Blackarachnia inspected the tips of the claws on her left hand, noting with only mild interest the little scuff where she'd scratched the inside of Starscream's helm.

"This speech again," she sighed. "Might I suggest," she went on, looking up from her claws and fixing the jet with a cool look. "That you _don't_ hang around to watch him fry? We still don't know how big the blast radius of this thing'll be."

"Oh, you're worried about me, now?" Starscream said disdainfully. He gave a short, scornful laugh. "I don't take orders from anyone; not anymore. I'll do what I like."

Blackarachnia's lip curled a little, exposing the very tip of one fang. "Fine," she said. "I guess I'll see you in the Pit, then - if you're not stillfawning over your precious dead Megatron by then."

"Okay, that's it!" Starscream snapped.

It seemed she had finally pushed him a little too far. She barely had time to spring out of the way before the null-ray blasts hit the crate where she'd been sitting - narrowly missing the incomplete bomb. She leapt nimbly upward onto a taller stack of crates, twisting as she reached the top and firing a glob of sticky webbing at him, temporarily gumming up his weapon. At the top of the stack of crates she dropped into an angular crouch and hissed. Starscream, still livid, tightened his fist around the Allspark fragment and kicked off the ground. He fired his heel turbines, propelling himself above her and blasting at her head with his remaining functional gun. The first blast hit her on the cheek, and she howled in a mixture of pain and outrage; she felt the circuits beneath her skin fizzing and becoming numb, already beginning to malfunction and shut down. Before he could land a second shot she had jumped from her perch. She grabbed the barrel of his null-ray in one clawed fist and swung her weight up, snapping a kick into his jaw with one spiked heel. Feeling a warm, coiling satisfaction at his yelp of surprise and pain, she let go of his null-ray and fell for a nanoklik before firing a rope of webbing at his back. Still momentarily stunned, Starscream only twisted and futilely tried to burn off the web with the fire from his heels. She was too fast, though; she swung quickly up and found puchase on his back, legs curled around his slim waist and the claws of one hand digging into one of his wings. He gave a shout of protest at that. She had heard somewhere that flier's wings were particularly sensitive, and she gleefully took advantage of that fact, pushing her claws in deeper. He reached over his shoulder to try and grab her and throw her off, but she bit his hand, only momentarily registering the mixed tastes of oil and partly processed energon as she severed a fuel line with her fangs. He hissed a stream of obscenities. Before he could wrench his hand away, she had twisted on his back and brought her shoulder pincers down into the connectors between his wings and his back.

He arched and yelled when the tips stabbed into his dermal plating, and she released his hand. His heel turbines sputtered and his optics flicked on and off for a moment, before she sapped too much energy for him to stay online, and he abruptly went still in her grasp. As soon as he began to fall, Blackarachnia extracted her claws and spines and jumped backward. The components and plates in her feet and lower legs shifted swiftly, and a new pair of thrusters flared into life, halting her descent. Starscream hit the floor with a reverberating crash, and Blackarachnia wobbled uncertainly in the air, her arms spread for balance. Deliberately slowing the intakes of air through her vents, she gently lowered herself to the ground, landing neatly. Beneath the spikes on her forearms, she felt the dormant charge of new, temporary null-rays.

Massaging her cheek, trying to get all her sub-systems back online, she gave Starscream's sprawled, dented form an experimental kick.

Maybe being under-estimated wasn't so bad.

* * *

While Starscream was still offline, Blackarachnia kicked him onto his side and bound his wrists behind his back with thick, sticky webbing. He would be functional again soon, and he would _not_ be happy to see her. This wouldn't hold a big mech like him for long, but it was all she could be bothered to do. She didn't have a lot of time, after all.

Once she was satisfied that he was at least trussed well enough that he couldn't vaporise her the minute he booted up, she pried the claws of his left hand open. She took the Allspark fragment, which he had managed to clutch throughout their entire scuffle, and straightened, tossing it idly and catching it in one hand.

Now was her chance to see if a piece of the original Allspark could do what the human child's key could not.

Holding the shard in her small, cupped hands, she tentatively brought it to her chest. Now that she had it in her hands she had become apprehensive - the recollection of the key's unpleasant effect on her organic half resurfaced in her memory banks.

She shook her head and closed the memory file. There was no point having second thoughts now. She had to try everything she could.

Holding the gem close, she haltingly slid back the smooth armour plates from her chest, wincing as more than machine parts were disturbed in the process. Circuit-boards slid aside as well, and wiring coiled away, exposing her small spark-chamber. The transparent casing was covered with a film of tissue, like a very fine membrane, together with a slick coating of the strange oily, black blood she had possessed since her change. Cables and organic veins fed to and from connectors in the casing, which in turn connected with the pulsing energy source inside. Her spark itself was small - in proportion with the rest of her frame. Femme-types were always built smaller than mechs; they generally weren't designed for strength, but rather aesthetic appeal. She found that rather ironic, considering her current state.

She set her jaw and opened her inner spark casing, though not before casting a quick look at her companion to make sure he was still out. She didn't really want him watching this, if she could avoid it.

She braced herself, then held the fragment to her exposed spark.

The effect was instantaneous. The fragment's energy field meshed with her own spark's, sending a shock of power shuddering through her body, and then the two blindingly bright objects seemed to pull into one another. She let go of the fragment as it embedded itself in her spark cavity, sending tongues of white energy outward, through her every wire and circuit. For a moment it felt _amazing_. She felt reawakened, supercharged, powerful.

Then it began to hurt, and it didn't stop. She felt the white-hot energy searing into her organic flesh, felt her cells begin to shrivel, their energy being sapped by the newly revitalised electronic parts of her body. Long dormant diagnostic and anti-virus programs blossomed into life. Her organic components were analysed, and classified as foreign, toxic contaminants.

She cried out as heat ate into her biological systems. Her knees buckled, and she fell to the floor, clutching at her open chest. It was happening. Primus it hurt, but it was _happening_. Her claws curled around the flaring pool of energy in her spark-chamber, but she didn't try to remove the shard. She couldn't do it, not yet, not when she could _feel_ her organic half being burned away -

Suddenly she felt something new, a new, clearer pain clasp around her spark. Her hand was wrenched away, and something tugged violently at her new, expanded life-force. She snarled in incomprehension, too stupefied by pain to react further, and then it was over - the shard had been removed from her chest, and already the heat and pain was receding. Fingers of electricity shot forth from her chest as the fragment was extricated from her spark's energy field, but it was a futile, instinctive effort.

Someone was shouting something at her, but her audio sensors were too fried to pick up much more than static. Her body began to tremble, and she fell forward onto her hands and knees.

A moment later she flinched when a blow hit her midsection. The kick hurt, but it was a milder, more manageable kind of pain to the dizzying sensation of half her body dying, and so she focused on it. As her senses returned, she was able to make out what was being yelled in her direction. She also realised that she was very, very angry.

"- just what the slag you think you're doing? You _know_ I need this thing, and you go and- If you want to offline yourself, all you had to do was ask! I would _happily_ have cluster-bombed the Pit out of that pretty helm of yours, but _no_, you have to do things the hard way, as _usual_!" A pause, and then, "Would you stop lying there like so many broken parts? You look pitiful."

Slowly, Blackarachnia raised her head. Her CPU seemed to have regained almost full functionality, and, though her body ached, she was no longer in pain. She was able to stand up, and she did so, a little shakily. To her surprise, Starscream's expression was not one of disgust or contempt. He looked riled, but also... shaken? Probably because he came so close to losing his precious Allspark fragment. It took her a couple of astroseconds to process that he was no longer tied up.

"Would you shut up for a klik?" she said, her voice low and hoarse. She bared her teeth at him, and growled, "What happened to my web-ropes?"

Starscream scoffed. "Please. You think that flimsy stuff would hold me?" He glanced down to her chest, then quickly back to her face, wearing a strange expression. Blackarachnia abruptly realised that her spark-casing was still wide open, and within it her spark pulsed erratically, still unstable from the strain her systems had just undergone. Hastily she closed the casing and slid the outer components and armour panels over it, turning away with a quiet, hissed oath. He'd taken the shard from inside her chest; she'd felt his claws brush through her spark, scrape against her inner circuitry... She suppressed a shudder and clenched her teeth.

When she turned around, Starscream was standing with his arms folded, watching her. He still held the fragment. They regarded each other for a moment; Blackarachnia fought the urge to keep a hand over her chest.

"You broke the ropes-"

"_That's _what you're focusing on? What the slag just happened?"

Blackarachnia's mouth twisted. "It was none of your business. I was fine. I was _going_ to be fine-"

"Really. Because you looked like you were going to shrivel up, or fall apart. You should've warned me you were suicidal before we started this ridiculous partnership!"

"I'm _not _suicidal!"

"You could have fooled me."

"Oh, and what slagging difference would it make to you?"

"None at all!" Starscream snapped, quickly. "I need this, though." He held the shard between the tips of his claws and waved it, as though she didn't know what he was talking about. She noticed he didn't hold it in his damaged hand.

"It would still have been there afterwards," Blackarachnia murmured. She crossed her arms, and turned away, striding to one of the large, cracked windows and staring blankly out. When she sensed Starscream still watching her, she said, "I was hoping to use the Allspark's power to rid me of my organic half, okay?"

"Well, it wasn't working."

"I think it was."

Starscream laughed, but the sound was shrill and cold. "You wouldn't have lived through that. Face it: without me you'd be offline now. Permanently deactivated."

Blackarachnia tightened her jaw, refusing to look at him. She remembered what Optimus had said to her, after she'd tried to use the key. She couldn't survive without her organic half. She was starting to wonder if maybe he'd been right.

"Oh, that's fine," Starscream. "Don't thank me." She didn't, and he muttered a curse, then went to continue tweaking the bomb. Blackarachnia remained at the window.


End file.
